


Pebbles In Time

by Nessotherly



Category: Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love to Lovers, M/M, Time Travel, timey-wimey stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22509346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessotherly/pseuds/Nessotherly
Summary: As they make their way back from the Market Place to Aslevjal, Fitz and the Fool end up in a place and time they are absolutely not prepared to deal with.Or: Fitz and the Fool travel not only back in time but also to another reality where Fitz was never under the charge of the Farseer family. They will therefore have to handle yet another 30 years of adventures sponsoring their younger selves so as to make sure dragons can reign over the skies again.
Relationships: FitzChivalry Farseer/The Fool
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Pebbles In Time

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me thanks to the wonderful speculations and shenanigans of the Prophet and Catalyst discord server. I love you guys so so much and I hope you'll enjoy my take at the Farseer 2.0 story! 
> 
> Also I'd like to thank my wonderful beta, Read with Mercy for the wonderful work done on this first chapter <3 thank you so so so much!

I knew something was wrong almost instantly. 

Dark didn’t close in on us but swirled and distorted reality as easily as if blowing out a flame. It was neither painful nor pleasant, and if I’d had any breath left, I would have screamed in absolute horror. Where the crossing of the stones had never been more than a crumble of reality giving way to another, here it was a complete deconstruction of the fabric of all that had made me.  _ Us _ . In a last attempt to keep my sense of self, I conjured any thoughts of the Fool I could gather, as if tightening him into an embrace in order to find my way out of this nightmare. 

It seemed to work. An instant later — or maybe after an eternity or two — we stumbled out of the stone pillar. For a chilling instant, I couldn’t remember how to breathe. I held the Fool to my chest as if he were my only rope out of a boiling sea, nails digging into his tender back. I couldn’t even muster the lucidity to worry for his tender skin, but fear gnawed at me when I heard a muffled sound escape his trembling form. 

“Fool!” I breathed, pushing him away to get a better look at his face. Night was setting around us and I could barely make out his traits, only growing cold as I saw the look of terror in his widened eyes. His face was wet, and I realised he was crying. He stood limp before me, seeing but unseeing, eyes focused on something I couldn’t fathom. Shaking like a leaf, his hands blindly grabbed at my forearms in a last attempt to hold himself upright. It didn’t work; he slowly went to his knees and I followed him, all the while repeating his name as if I could conjure him back from whatever fever dream he’d lost himself in. 

It was to no avail. Long minutes passed where he opened and closed his mouth aimlessly, maybe to form words he couldn’t remember the following second. I watched him, worried and intent, pressed my palm to his forehead, felt him cold under my touch, pressed my thumb on his wrist and noticed the erratic beating of his heart. 

“Fool,” I urged. “What’s wrong?” and I asked him again and again, but nothing came out of him. Finally, I glanced up at our surroundings in order to make sense of the place we’d ended up in. 

I recognised it instantly. Somehow, we’d crossed the pillar to find ourselves at the Witness Stones. They stood tall, proud and ancient on a cliff overlooking Buckkeep. I saw lights flickering busily down in the city and in the dark and austere castle dominating a raging sea. It was wrong. The rune I had touched on the pillar led to Aslevjal — I was sure of it. We were not meant to come here. Speculations ran through my mind as I thought of explanations for our early arrival at Buckkeep. Maybe my queen would accept our hiding for a while, and I could pretend to have arrived earlier than the rest of the party by taking a more direct boat from the OutIslands...

“Wrong,” I heard the Fool breathe out. “Everything... everything is so, so  _ wrong _ .” 

I turned my attention back to him. He seemed to have regained some of his wits, and hugged himself, bent in two, still shaking. “What do you mean?” I could hear the strain in my voice — a very telling worry, an intuition that things were not as simple as they seemed. 

“There is... so much that I had never envisioned, but— Oh Fitz,  _ Fitz _ !” he suddenly blurted out, raising his golden gaze to mine, pupils so dilated I doubted he could really see me. “Fitz, I could see again. I  _ can  _ see again! So many paths I had never dared to cross or examine, they all rush back to me as if these threads await my own weaving! Or — no, my re-weaving, re-weaving it all over again, because it is the same but it is not...” I couldn’t understand a single thing he said, and I told him just as much. This prompted him to laugh, but it was a laugh I didn’t find pleasant. “Oh, Fitz, you wouldn’t, would you? If only...” There was a sort of folly in his eyes, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist with his silvered fingers. “Yes, yes, I could  _ show _ you—” 

I jerked my arm off. “No, Fool— Fool, don’t. It isn’t a good idea, not while you’re—”

He laughed some more, letting his head fall against my shoulder. His shaking worried me— no,  _ all _ of him worried me. 

“Fool, we need to find a place to camp,” I said after a little while of his slumping against me in silence. “It is too late to reach the town before dark. The path down the cliff can be risky at night.” 

He barely hummed his assent. He must have been about to fall asleep. “We’ll see Kettricken tomorrow. Somehow.” My words had been more directed at myself than him. I managed to pull him up from the waist and he blinked up at me in annoyance. “Come on, let’s get away from the path. I don’t want any guards to find us here.” 

He sighed and I allowed him to rest his weight against mine while we walked into the surrounding forest. We didn’t go far; the Fool barely managed to put one foot after the other, and I had to admit that I was weary from crossing the pillar. I found a small clearing and let my friend rest against a tree while I took the tent out of my pack and put it up. I built a fire and got the few rests of provisions out of our bags. “Eat,” I commanded the Fool as I sat next to him. He jerked awake and all but glared at me. Still, he accepted my offering and munched on it sleepily. 

“We won’t find anything in Buckkeep,” he said after a while. “Not this time.” 

He sounded like he’d calmed down. I frowned. “What do you mean?” 

His eyes met mine. The way in which the fire lit his irises had turned them into spheric beams, more akin to gold than ever before. I blinked. 

“This isn’t our time,” he began, then stopped. “I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“You said before that you could see again. Does it have anything to do with your visions?” 

He nodded jerkily; his hands pressed on his knees, as if to expel something from his body. He then brought them up before him, fingers stretched, trying to grasp at something invisible to my eyes. “It was like — like — I don’t know how to explain it, Fitz. I only ever  _ dream _ . They come— they  _ came _ in my sleep. But when we got there, they all rushed through me in an instant. In the waking world. I... and I knew these visions, Fitz. I’d seen them all before. It doesn’t make any sense! They were the same — the ones of my,  _ our  _ boyhood, but different. Pulling at different threads.” 

“I do not know what you mean.” 

He turned to me, his movements made all the more violent by his trembling that still had not subsided. 

“I do not know how or why, Fitz, but this place we have come to is not our own. This is not our time. We are...” He laughed and this time, there was a shade of wonder, of merriment to it all. “We are in the past. In our past, or... I mean, we are in a past of what could have been, had things gone if only a bit differently.” 

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t get any words out. The Fool looked at me with his unbearable and piercing golden eyes. I finally managed to blurt out a weak: “What?”

“We are in the past.” 

“But—”

“A different past.” 

“But how—”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I only know that I know it.” 

“But it doesn’t make any sense!” My voice had taken on a higher pitch than I was comfortable to admit. I brought my hands up to my hair and pulled at it. 

“I know!” 

“Fool, are you sure? Are you absolutely  _ sure _ ?” 

There was a sadness to his traits when he nodded gravely. “I know it as surely as I knew the correct path was the one that foresaw the return of the dragons.” 

I gaped at him. Then I pressed my palms against my eyes and let out a long, plaintive moan. “It cannot be!” 

The Fool didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and let his back rest against the tree. 

“It cannot be, Fool, it just can’t. Tomorrow, we will find a way into Buckkeep and ask to see Kettricken and—”

“She won’t be there,” the Fool retorted. “She’s still in the mountains with — Fitz, were you even listening?” 

“She’s here, Fool.” I drawled my words, slow and insistent, as if talking to an infant. “We’ll see her in the morning.” 

He gave me one long resentful look. “And why don’t you try skilling out to Chade? Mmh? Or maybe even Thick, or Nettle? Our  _ soon _ to be king?” 

And suddenly, I remembered the walls I had raised against my coterie for the past few days — or had it been a week? Weeks? I’d forgotten all about time as I’d welcomed the Fool back into life. I’d kept my prince, Chade and Thick, and even my daughter at bay. I couldn’t bring it in me to regret it. I had refused to exist for anyone but my Fool. 

I lowered my walls and reached out to the coterie, pulled at the familiar strings of Thick’s ever present music and Chade’s comforting presence —

Only void awaited me there. 

For a minute, I thought I had lost my Skill once more. I pulled and reached for something,  _ anything _ remotely close to the familiar presence of my friends, of my family, but the only thing I found in the vast Skill current was a couple of curious minds whose awareness turned on me for a split second. I called for them, and called and called again, raising more attention on me than I’d usually be comfortable with. 

His presence, then, came like a lightning — strong yet comforting, if only a bit hesitant and drawn back, as if trying not to overwhelm me.  _ FitzChivalry _ , my Fool said, his presence an overwhelming bacon of love.  _ They are not here. Come back to me. Please _ .

Like a mother guiding her child back to bed, he carried me back into my body. I blinked up at him. I had not noticed my fall. He cradled my head in my lap and ran his slender fingers through my unbound hair, grazing my skull in soothing motions that could have put me to sleep had my heart not been racing at such a speed. I had jumped into the Skill current. Like an idiot. 

“They’re gone,” I breathed. “All of them.” 

“No.” The Fool’s voice was firm but tender. “Some of them haven’t yet been born. You have never taught Chade how to Skill. You cannot reach for them here.” 

I was crying. I had not realised it until he brushed a tear from my temple. “It’s impossible,” I said futilely. 

“I know.” 

“What are we gonna do?” 

In the dim light, I saw how weary he was. “I don’t know, Beloved. I have no idea. Contrarily to my own time, I haven’t had years of reflection and speculation to guide my steps. We’ll think about it in the morning. All I know is that nothing awaits us in Buckkeep. Or at least, nothing that we know of.” 

Slowly, I rose to a sitting position. I stood so close to him I could feel his breathing on my cheek. “Come,” I finally said. “Let’s sleep.” 

He nodded, but made no move towards the tent. 

“Fool.” 

“I can’t go back in the tent,” he whispered. “I don’t know why you insisted on bringing it back. I told you to leave it.” 

I shrugged as I stood up. “I like it. I like the memories we shared in it. I thought I’d keep it, even if you didn’t want it anymore.” I averted my gaze. “We shared good times in it. You’d created a whole world inside this tent; it kept the cold at bay. I felt safe in it, and I think you should try to claim it back for what it was, when you’re ready.” 

“Not tonight.” I could hear tears in his voice. “I will, but not tonight. Not yet. Give me time.” 

I nodded. “All the time you need.” 

He nodded and turned his back on me to lie facing the fire. I hesitated, then went to my backpack, gathered my sleeping roll and sprawled it on the dirt and leaves next to him. I laid there, ignoring a treacherous root poking at my ribs. “Good night, Fool,” I murmured. He didn’t reply. 

Dreams came to him again that night, yet he didn’t cry for help, only moaned and frowned as he turned from one side to the other. I kept watch, and when he finally awoke from whatever turmoil had reached him in sleep, he came to hide his face against my neck, still as an ice statue, and I enfolded him in my arms for the rest of the night. 

* * *

Morning came, and it was a bleak one; fog thickened the air around us and mirrored our thoughts as we packed our belongings and returned towards the Witness Stones to take a closer look at the runes in the daylight. 

“I do not think it is a good idea to cross it yet,” the Fool said, shivering as he looked up at the tall monument of black stone. 

“Me neither,” I said. “I wouldn’t like to travel further than we could hope to come back from.” 

He nodded, then bit his lip apprehensively. 

“What?” I demanded, frowning at his hesitance to speak. 

“I— I think I know a place we could go.” 

“You know of an inn nearby?” 

“No.” His tone was stern, yet his worry did not escape me. “No, I think we should go to Patience.” 

“Pa— what?” I was incredulous. 

The Fool rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s my dreams, my visions, I— I know there is something to be done by her side. And think about it: she loves you dearly, and out of all the people we know, she is recluse enough that her helping us wouldn’t risk much.”

“We don’t even know where she is!” I had no idea why his proposal unnerved me so. “We don’t know when we are, if any of what you said last night is true. We could be years before any of the people we knew were born. She could be a child, for all we know!” 

“What I said last night, and what I am telling you now is true. And I don’t think we came that far back. The dreams that came to me remained similar, if not the same, to those I had when I was the court’s jester. We must be at around that same time. I have no idea what year it might be.” 

I sighed. I was starting to get a headache. “None of this makes any sense. If we’re back to that time, she could as well be in Withywoods as in Buckkeep. With or without my father.” My throat constricted, then. If any of what the Fool said was true, then it was possible that we had come to a time my father was still alive. 

No. It was too much, too dangerous. When I glanced back at the Fool, I knew that he had followed the trail of my thoughts. He simply gave me a contrite smile. “Let us start in Buckkeep, then. We might gather some more information as to  _ when _ we are, and we might hear of Patience’s whereabouts. We might also need some clothes— depending on the time we are in, your resemblance to Chivalry might cause us problems.” He sighed, then glanced away, eyes lost in the stretch of water over the horizon. “And I would like to wear something different.” 

I didn’t comment. There was something about his tent and his belongings from our trip in Aslevjal that brought him to a dark place. I could also imagine that the Elderling robe he currently wore would draw some unwanted attention. 

“Let’s go downtown, then,” I nodded, and started towards the path down the cliff. “We’ll come back to the Witness Stone later and see if we can go back to our time.” I still could not entirely believe in this tale of time travel. There must be another explanation, I repeated to myself as we walked down towards the town. 

But as we passed places I knew to be, in my own time, filled with houses and shops and busy town life, which here remained desperately clear of any building, dread started to settle in my chest. When we passed by the place where Jinna’s house should have stood, I turned an alarmed look towards the Fool. He looked solemn, and his gaze was grave. 

“It’s impossible,” I muttered, and kept on muttering as we walked through a few fishing houses that I knew were now — or  _ would _ be — part of a fashionable marketplace. 

When we finally reached a place I recognised from my memories of the old Buckkeep town I had known as a lad, I nodded towards a pound-breaker in a back-alley. I knew that we could find some appropriate clothing for the season and time we had somehow impossibly stumbled into there. People had started to shoot confused, then hostile looks at the Fool’s clothing, and I couldn’t wait to make him less noticeable in a crowd of dark skinned townspeople. I wondered if Forgings had already begun. 

We managed to find him some brown leggings and a blue tunic as well as some cosmetic powder to help him hide the strange shade of his skin. It would probably be better to have him look as a mountain man rather than something more exotic, too reminiscent of possible OutIslander raids. I found a clean, yellowish tunic to replace the warm clothing I’d brought on our expedition to Aslevjal, and we quickly put on our new clothes, slipping the clerk a few more coins than necessary to ensure his discretion. 

And still, we walked from inn to inn, straining our ears to grasp for whatever information we could get regarding the time we were in. And finally, as night set on the town and tongues loosened with drink, we came to learn of a few key elements that had my stomach drop to the ground. King-in-Waiting Verity was to find a bride in a Mountain Girl, and his brother was already courting her in his stead while he worked on protecting the coastal duchies from OutIslander raids. 

“Chivalry is dead,” the Fool murmured. 

“How do you know?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. 

“Verity was second in line to the throne. And  _ something _ tells me that Chivalry didn’t only abdicate to have his younger brother succeed him.” 

I nodded. “So there should be a small FitzChivalry out there. Somewhere.” 

The smile he gave me was one of absolute weariness. “And a little Fool as well.” 

I moaned plaintively as I hid my face into my hands. All the Fool could do was pat me sympathetically on the back. 

“This is such a big, big mess,” I concluded. All my Fool could do at that was nod. 

* * *

A few days more of lurking and listening confirmed to us that Patience was, indeed, still residing in Withywoods. 

“It’s strange,” the Fool said one day when we crossed the Buck countryside towards the home that had been my father’s. “In our time, Lady Patience went to Buckkeep to be closer to you.”

I shrugged. “You said things were different here.” 

“They are. They do not make sense, though.” 

“Why does it have to be Patience, again? We could have gone to Chade.” 

He gave me an exasperated look that I felt I absolutely did not deserve. “And have him kill us? Do not forget that in this time, he is merely Shrewd’s handy knife. No, Fitz, not Chade. It is way too dangerous. And trust me when I tell you that Patience is the key to all of this. We don’t know what Chade’s relationship to little Fitz is. But Patience provides us with discretion, and her family bond is more direct to you as a mother than Chade's is as an unacknowledged uncle.  _ Trust _ me.” 

“I do,” I said. “I swear I do. I just—”

“You’re afraid.” 

I couldn’t help a lopsided smile. “As much as a son can be when he hasn’t sent word to his mother in the last fifteen years.” 

He laughed; it was a relief to hear it come freely from him after weeks of weakness and solemn reluctance to engage in the small jests I sent his way. 

“I am not even sure she will recognise you.” 

“She’ll be quite shocked to see me so grown up.” 

He grinned, hit me with his shoulder, and soldiered on across the grassy field. He was recovering his strength. I hurried along behind him, unable to help my own smile.

We arrived at Withywoods at noon the following day, and I stood speechless before this domain I had only heard of but never set my eyes upon. It was a beautiful house made out of lovely reddish stones, tall and airy and surrounded by a flowery land that had nothing to do with the name it bore. We could hear voices from the inside of the manor, and hurried towards the door to knock and announce ourselves as message bearers from Buckkeep. 

A mousy maid came to open the door, and glanced up at us suspiciously, taking in our dusty and wearied countenance and guiding us to a drawing room where she brought us some soup and bread to feast on while she went to call for her lady. I had not noticed I was shaking until the Fool came to rest his gloved hand upon mine. I managed to draw a tight smile and brought my focus back to the food that the maid had graciously bestowed upon us. 

The minutes stretched slowly. Traitorously so. Every single creak of the house seemed to alert me of Patience’s imminent arrival. Yet, for half an hour or so, she didn’t come. The Fool reassured me that it would take some time before she would manage to meet some messengers, yet I couldn’t help but worry at her delay. I had to remind myself that Patience had always been easily distracted and that it was nothing out of the ordinary. 

Finally, even after all those years, I recognised the rhythm of her steps on the wooden floor. My heart dropped and I rose to my feet. I held the Fool’s hand tightly in mine behind my back, as if to find in it some courage to face the one person I’d thought I would never see again. 

Lacey trailed behind her, as faithful as ever. Yet I had not to worry about Patience’s reaction to my coming here. She barely gave me one glance before her face went white and she fell into her friend’s arms, all life seemingly gone out of her. 

“Well,” my Fool said, a note of his old jeering tone back into his voice. “You did say that she would be shocked.”


End file.
